I Do, She Doesn't
by clamsofmacabre
Summary: Before Sango came along, Miroku was, simply put, a playboy. Commitment wasn't exactly his forte. But after three years of dating her, Miroku has finally decided to leap from bachelorhood to being a married man. One problem. Sango said no. [chap. 2 redone]
1. Till Death Do We Part

Disclaimer: Don't own anything but my fanfics

First try at Miroku/Sango (my fav. pairing)

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He was sick of it all. Of waiting, of heartbreak, of life in general. He was sick of wanting her, loving her. She completed him, like a missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle. He needed her. But… he had lost her…

_Flashback_

Walking, with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped, Miroku all but shuffled towards his apartment. Fingering the velvet box that had been stuffed into his jeans pocket, he shoved his keys into the lock and slowly opened the door. All the while, replaying the scene over and over again in his head. Rewinding, stopping, playing, and pausing the same ten minutes of the day in his mind, trying to see what he had done wrong, what he had said wrong.

Today… today wasn't supposed to have been like this. Today was supposed to have been special. He was supposed to feel like the happiest man on Earth… not like this. Like a piece of trash waiting to be thrown away. Like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on repeatedly.

Rejection had never been something he particularly enjoyed. Whether it was an offer for a date or a suggestion for a reunion with a bitter family member, he hated the word "no". For years, he had refused to take no for an answer… until he met her.

Commitment wasn't his forte, to put it simply. He got in, got on, got off. It was the same thing with every girl. One-night stands were all he could stand. He'd never felt any… guilt by doing what he did. After all, he had a strict rule of never doing virgins. He didn't want to be a memory. He didn't want to be forever imprinted on her mind.

He never gave them his real name. Always different aliases, so that he would only be like a figment of their imagination, a hallucination dreamt up under the influence of sexual tension.

There was no real emotion hidden under the main feeling of lust. He didn't care for any of the women he slept with. Likewise, they didn't care for him. He had liked this sort of sex. No strings attached.

Then she came along…

She was so different from him. She had a family, friends, who she loved and who loved her back. She was proud, beautiful inside and out.

When he first saw her, he felt immediate attraction… but it had been far from mutual. When she first saw him, her expression had changed from her usual smile to an almost hidden grimace. No doubt it was from how he had been, just moments before, flirting with the busty waitress.

She had avoided him. No matter how hard he had tried time and again to talk to her, she refused. Again and again, rejecting him, almost as if it were some twisted game that she took pleasure in. But he knew better than to assume that.

She was an angel in disguise really. Volunteering in charities and donating to animal shelters. The only time she showed her temper was towards him. He probably shouldn't have been encouraged by this, but he was. Even if he was only there for her to get rid of any pent up anger, to be near her, well, it was enough for him.

Surprisingly, after first seeing her, he had stopped his nightly stands. Just talking, or rather arguing, with her seemed to satisfy him. However unrequited his affections towards her were, to just know she was there was enough.

Then, quite suddenly, her family was gone. They had been driving, her parents, her brother and herself, when a truck had collided with them at a four-way intersection. Her parents died on impact, her brother three days later.

She had only suffered a broken leg and a few broken ribs, but when he first heard, he had hurried to her side. She had surprised him, by smiling when he turned up, but he suspected that maybe all the painkillers that they had given her had dulled her senses for the time being, but he stayed there, by her side until she was released from the hospital.

He was there, when she first heard that she was the only survivor of the car crash. He was there when she took her first step out of her hospital bed. He was there to hold her tight comfort her and to brush away all her tears.

After that, her views towards him changed. In fact, as surprising as it was, for both of them, she was the one who asked him out. Granted, he gave her, her first kiss, but she had technically made the first move.

They had been dating for three years now and were, or so he had thought, blissfully happy. Sure, they fought occasionally, but it had only made their relationship stronger. He had thought that they were ready to move on to the next level.

"Sango… how long have we known each other?" He had asked taking her hands with his.

"Oh, four, five years I'd say." She had replied.

"Exactly five years, three months and six days." He told her earnestly, looking at her with affection in his eyes.

"You counted?" She asked, quirking her eyebrow at the fact, although she was deeply touched.

"Every second, minute and hour," He answered, before kneeling on one knee, "Sango, I have loved you since the first day I set my eyes on you. You… you complete me. And, I don't think I ever want to be without you."

"M… Miroku? What are you saying?" She asked.

"What I'm saying is that… Sango, will you marry me?" He asked, holding her hands even tighter before producing the velvet box that held the golden engagement ring.

Looking at her, he saw tears running down her face and moved in to hold her against him, confused as to why she was crying.

"I… I… I can't…." She choked out, before she broke down sobbing into his shirt.

It had taken him a few seconds to register what she had just said. The pure rejection of it all hurt him. No explanation, just a flat out refusal.

Pulling away from her, he had stormed off, refusing to look back even when he heard her shout his name. When he heard her try and run after him, he had only run faster, trying to escape the pain.

_End Flashback_

Looking back, Miroku wondered if maybe running off was such a good idea. But he had been hurt. It was like she had basically stabbed him. She hadn't called, visited, anything after that day… it had been three weeks. Maybe… he was just like some toy, a pet for her to play with. Or maybe… she had just been repaying him for the time he had spent watching after her in the hospital.

Every time she had said that she had loved him… had she been faking? Was she lying all this time? Lying so that his feeling wouldn't be hurt?

He kicked the table. A lot of good that did him. He had never felt this sort of pain, this sort of depression and anguish before.

Before she came along, his rules were simple. To never sleep with a virgin, to never do it without protection, to never give them his real name… all of them were to avoid one thing, getting into a long-term relationship, and he had done just that.

But he couldn't just… forget about her. He had used up five years of his life for gods sake. He was 21 now, just out of college without a job and living on the last bits of the money that his parents had left him in their will.

He had made up his mind. He had to have Sango. She was his reason for living, his soul mate. His every thought was about her. To forget her would be like cutting off a piece of his soul.

Tying his hair in a loose ponytail, he shrugged on a jacket and walked out of the apartment, keys in one hand, and the velvet box in the other. One way or another, Sango would be his; even if he had to keep asking until he was 67.

After all, he never took no for an answer.


	2. No Erasers

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my fanfics! So stop bothering me about it!

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**VERY IMPORTANT BABBLE: **

Ok, for those who are confused, this is a COMPLETELY REDONE chapter two. It's longer, for one, and also, it goes in a completely different direction. It has the same beginning, but a different middle, flashback, and end. For those wondering what happened to the original chapter two? Well, it's not quite gone, but be sure you'll never see it again. I've scrapped the whole idea and am starting anew.

So, yeah, enjoy.

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To say that she was a mess would have been an understatement. She was a wreck, a complete and total wreck. It had been three weeks since she had refused Miroku's proposal and those 27 miserable days had been filled with crying and… more crying.

Her bedroom was littered with used tissues, empty whipped cream cans and ice cream containers. When she wasn't crying, she was eating, and when she wasn't eating, she was watching Jerry Maguire over and over again on her TV.

Miroku… she'd been dating him for so long now… three years was it? And no matter how wary and cautious she had been around him when they first met, she couldn't help but love him.

Yes, he was, or at least had been, a perverted male equivalent of a slut. That was why she had avoided him for so long. But… he was so sweet. And romantic… and spontaneous… and… just so sincere.

Sango banged her head against the wall. 'Don't you dare think about him. Don't you dare…' She told herself for the hundredth time that day. Every thought she had some how connected back to him. Everything she did reminded her of him.

Just being in her APARTMENT reminded her of Miroku. The photographs… the teddy bear he had given her on Valentines Day. The couch he had helped her carry in.

She felt a tear running down her cheek. 'Damn…' she thought, 'I'm crying again…'

She'd never cried this long. Luckily it was in the summer and college was out, because she highly doubted that it would be close to impossible for her to have left the sanctity of her bedroom without breaking down.

When she had started her relationship with Miroku, she had always thought that it would be HIM who would ruin it. Take one look at a pretty girl and just leave like the bastard she thought he was. After all, that was what was expected out of him. To be a cheating, lying, son of a…

Sango stopped herself from going any further. This wasn't his fault. NONE of it was his fault. He had done nothing except been the man that she had fallen in love with, no matter how long she had kept herself from doing so. And what hurt even more was the fact that she was the one who had driven him away.

Sango laughed, a bitter and cruel sound. How ironic, that the one with the commitment problem was her.

If he had just asked a month, or a week, or even a DAY earlier, she would have said yes, and she would've finally been happy. But because Miroku had asked only two hours after **_HE _**decided to show up at her door, she had been reminded of every single insecurity that she ever had about loving someone… and being loved back.

**_HE_** was her ex-boyfriend and he was still the same inconsiderate jerk he had been the day they had met. Except, back then, he had covered it up with pick-up lines and confidence, the former which used to make her giggle and blush, and the latter which had far surpassed her own. Of course, whenever she thought of all the lines he used to throw at her, it made her sick. Probably the reason her first impression of Miroku was so bad. He had reminded her so much of…

Sango paused, shuddering at the name of the man who had single-handedly destroyed what little self-assurance and faith she had in herself and had filled her with doubt and more potent, fear.

But he had made her feel so special with his whispered praise and secret smiles. However, the value of those had considerably decreased once Sango had learned that she hadn't been the only recipient.

When he had hit her, she found herself convinced that it was her own fault. That she had done something to deserve this. It wasn't his fault. It couldn't be his fault. He said it himself, he had a disorder. She had done something to anger him. He couldn't control his actions.

She had tried again and again to try and change her ways. Maybe… if she was different… he wouldn't be so angry all the time.

But the abuse only got worse as the weeks wore on. Nothing she could do could stop him when his temper flared up. He claimed that he was taking classes, getting help, but going to the meetings just seemed to make him angrier.

He scared her. Being around him was terrifying. But she couldn't break free. She just couldn't. If she left him, he might do something drastic. She didn't want to be responsible causing someone else pain, even if it meant being the one to suffer his blows.

But one night he went too far. He had dared to hit her little brother. That BASTARD had DARED to make Kohaku cry. The details were hazy, but it involved a baseball bat, the police, and a few hours in "custody". Sure, she almost got thrown into juvie and she ended up with a couple of broken ribs, but it was all worth it. Naraku was shipped off to a "rehabilitation center" with a concussion, a broken arm, and a pair of black eyes.

She hadn't heard from him in six years and it had taken all 2,190 days for her to rebuild herself emotionally. She was basically a mess after her "encounter" with him, but quality time with the school counselor and a few other therapists here and there had helped. When her family had died, that had been a gigantic setback, but with Miroku there for her, she slowly patched up her emotional wall.

Her life sans him was so wonderful, especially with Miroku always there, but then he came back. And he brought with him everything she had tried so hard to escape.

"I hate you Naraku." She screamed into her pillow before breaking into fresh sobs. It was disgusting how much control he had on her emotions, even after six years. It was because of him that she had said no to Miroku's proposal. He had denied her last chance at happiness, just by showing up.

_Flashback_

Sango was just finishing up her lunch when the doorbell rang. Thinking it was probably Miroku showing up a few hours early like he liked to do (_I like to surprise you, he'd always say)_ she opened the door without peeking through the eyehole.

Swinging open her door, she expected to see her boy-friend, but instead, she was greeted with the face of someone she had tried to forget since the day they parted.

"Naraku." She whispered, the word sounding more like an accusation than as a greeting.

"Sango darling," he purred in his signature tone of voice, "I've missed you so."

Sango's first reaction was to slam the door, which she immediately acted upon.

"Dear, I know you're upset. But trust me, I've changed. I'm a better man now." Begged his voice, muffled by three inches of wood.

Sango refused to reply, but the longer he stayed, the more questions that were threatening to fly out of her mouth came.

"_Why was he here?" "What did he want?" "Why wouldn't he just leave her alone?" _

"Please, Sango, you know you want to let me in." He continued on, undeterred by the silence that followed his pleads.

'Go away… go away…' Sango screamed in her mind, involuntary sliding downwards, her back against the door before she collapsed in a heap on the floor.

"Sango, really, this is getting tiring. Just open the door so we can discuss this like adults."

When the door stayed close, Naraku sighed and raked his hand through his hair. The center that he went to had instructed him to take deep breaths and count to 10 in order to stabilize his anger, but this was almost too much. He felt his fists clench and it was all he could do to stop himself from doing something he'd regret. Not that he really cared particularly about hurting someone, but he was on probation and there was no way he was going back to that hellhole.

Muttering to himself, he allowed himself a kick or two at the door before stalking off.

Sango wrapped herself even tighter in her arms, panic beginning to set in. She realized quickly the familiar feeling that was occurring. Fear. Fear that Naraku was back, fear that Naraku would hurt her, and even more powerful, the fear that Naraku would hurt someone that she cared about.

The phone rang suddenly and Sango made no move to answer it. After six rings, the answering machine clicked on.

"Hey, it's um, Miroku. Just calling to make sure you haven't forgotten our date tonight. Wear something um, comfortable. Yeah, okay, see you tonight."

Hearing her boyfriend's voice, Sango teared up again. What if Naraku hurt Miroku? She'd never be able to get over that. He meant too much to her. The only way to protect him was to end their relationship, no matter how precious it was to her. She was going to have to break up with him tonight. For both their sakes…

_End Flashback_

Looking back on it, Sango saw all the signs that Miroku was going to propose, or at least do something equally drastic. For one, his usual perverted comments were missing. Not one single word about any part of her anatomy… or his for that matter. Also, his voice sounded nervous, almost anxious and the message sounded… almost rehearsed.

How devastating it would have been for Miroku if she had broken up with him on the day he had planned to propose. But Sango had been too cowardly to initiate it. All throughout the date, the words "we need to talk" swirled around in her head, but each time she opened her mouth to say them, he'd do something so utterly charming that her vocal cords had trouble working.

Then the "golden" opportunity arrived.

Seeing Miroku kneel down and give his little monologue, Sango knew that this was her last chance before she was in too deep. And when she saw him pull out the box, she knew this was it. But the more she thought about it, the more painful it was to realize that this was it.

As soon as it dawned on her, Sango began to cry. And through her blurred vision, she saw Miroku's expression change from hope to confusion.

And with that one word, Sango realized that she had willingly signed away her happiness. Seeing Miroku stand up, shove the box back into his pocket, then run off with an aura of hurt and anger surrounding his being, she knew.

She knew that this was the end. And whether it was for the better or the worse, there was nothing she could do to wipe away the incident.

After all, life didn't come with erasers.

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Yes, yes, I know, that was so cliched it burns. I just can't write angst. I'm so switching back to humor as soon as I finish up this fic, if I even do. 

Anyways, hope that this chapter didn't cause you do rip out your eyeballs, but if it did, I sincerely apologize.

Oh, before I forget, it's time to...

**THANK THE REVIEWERS (from chapter 1):  
**

**lovers quarrel**: Miroku? A stalking, crazed boyfriend? NEVER! Miroku will always be a perfect knight in shining armor! J/k. But no, I'm not going to have Miroku be some sort of stalker intent on getting Sango to marry him. This IS a romance after all! How romantic is tying up the girl of your dreams and forcing her to marry you? I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks so much for reviewing!

**Aamalie**: SQUEAL YOU ARE ONE OF MY FAV. INUYASHA AUTHORS! I can't believe that I, a lowly first-time M/S writer is deemed worthy of your time! Thanks so much for reviewing and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

**Angellgoddess**: Aw, thanks! You make me feel so wanted! Thanks for the extra boost to my self-esteem ! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks so much for reviewing!

**BaByXbOoX143**: You really think so? Thanks so much! I'm really glad Miroku fits his character. I do hate OOC characters. They freak me out! Thanks so much for reviewing and I really hope you enjoyed this chapter!

**Iggy04**: I love your username. Sorry, but I have a teddy bear named Iggy (don't ask, I'm weird).Since it's not a one-shot, I think I will explain why Sango said no. I had a reason, but it seemed pretty petty, so I guess they're will just have multiple reasons . You're right though, Miroku hasn't flirted with another girl since he started dating Sango! Which might be slightly OOC, but I'm a true romantic at heart!

**Midnight Aurelia**: I'm so glad you liked this story. Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter and thanks for reviewing!

**asylum100**: THANKS! I'm glad you thought it was good. Hope you liked this chapter too and many thanks for the review!

**You-Know-Who**: Miroku, a bastard, NEVER! J/k. Thanks so much and I'm real glad you liked it. You somehow managed to force me to tell you my username, but I'm glad you liked it Igor! How's Iggy btw? Still homicidal?

**Fred the Mutant Pickle**: Of course it's not a one-shot. Who'd be THAT evil? Well, this chapter doesn't really explain WHY she said no, cuz even she doesn't know, but be sure that you WILL learn why! You don't read AU! What a deprived human being you are!

**Lily Thorne**: Ooh! I LOVE your stories, especially Checkmate, a personal fav! I'm so glad you liked this fic! IC? Am not familiar with that abbreviation, you'll have to explain it to me. Anyways, I hoope you enjoyed this story and thanks so much for reviewing!

**THANK THE REVIEWERS (from the original chapter 2):**

**Lily Thorne: **Well, hopefully this newly renovated chapter gives you more of a clue. And why wouldn't I like Checkmate, it's a masterpiece.

**AngellGoddess: **Ah, well, there's no hinting of Inuyasha/Kagome here, so hopefully that'll be more pleasing for you eyes (if you haven't already ripped them out by now).

**Igor #2 3/4: **Totally from Hitch. Same with the Jerry Maguire.You nitpicker, always nitpicking (for lack of a better word) at my mistakes. Hmph. And it's Rurouni KENSHIN, not Tenshin. mutters Moron.

**Aamalie: **Alright, alright, I'll try and curb my enthusiasm . Anways, is Sango still being stupid? I'm not quite sure. I'm more of a fan of Miroku anyways. Don't I wish Inuyasha would get run over, that'd be a funny (if not macabre) image. I should put that in later...

**Fred the Mutant Pickle: **Evil one-shots should burn in hell... Anyways, good, good, AU is chicken soup for the soul !

**Sarah, aka too lazy to sign in: **Oh yeah, sixteen candles, I watched that on AMC. It was really boring, 'cept for "The Donger". A total asian stereotype, but very funny. sweatdrops I doubt Kagome chainsawed Inuyasha to pieces... but I guess anything is possible, eh? And my inner ghetto? He's in rehab. He'll be out in a few months. Good thing to. He was really burning a hole in my pocket with his "dealings".


	3. Love is a Sickness

Once again, I'm updating almost a month later. Sigh, I have got to stop doing that. Well, it's better than not updating at all... right?

Anyways, as usual, I'm going to have to warn you about this chapter. It's sort of soap opera-y. Very much so. Miroku's past is (dun dun dun) REVEALED! rolls eyes I can stand it, but I've had practice, so, be sure you're ready when you read it and try to fight that gag reflex.

For some reason, I'm beginning to feel like Lemony Snicket...

**Quick note**: If anyone read chapter two before June 24, 2005, it's best that you reread it, because it's a new version. Anyone that has read chapter two after the above date, please proceed on reading chapter three.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my fanfics and a few knickknacks I picked up from Italy.

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Last time: 

She knew that this was the end. And whether it was for the better or the worse, there was nothing she could do to wipe away the incident.

After all, life didn't come with erasers.

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Cursing silently under his breath, Miroku couldn't believe he had been so stupid to forget that Sango lived a good eight miles away from him. That wouldn't have been a factor except the fact that he didn't own a car. Not to mention, it had started raining ten minutes ago and it didn't look like it was going to let up anytime soon. 

What he'd do for love.

No wonder he tried so hard in the past to avoid it. What a pain.

Barely avoiding a speeding car and getting splashed by a wave of gutter water, Miroku briskly crossed the crosswalk, although not before giving the one finger salute to the driver.

It was a wonder that he even knew the way to Sango's place. He was usually terrible at directions and regularly ended up getting lost. But it sort of made sense. After all, if Sango could make him just drop the system that he'd followed diligently for three years, she could probably have instilled in him, some sort of sense of direction.

It was amazing really, now that he looked back on it. She wasn't even the type of girl that he was attracted to. In other words, she wasn't easy or particularly busty. In fact, the first time they'd met, she had slapped him. Hard too.

He remembered how shocked he was when she finally agreed to go on a date with him. How nervous he had been that day. So scared that something would go wrong and that he would completely blow his chance. That'd never happened before. Being around her had just opened the floodgates that had held in his emotions.

He remembered the day he finally told her about his past. How happy, ecstatic even, he felt when she didn't run away from him or pull away, and instead threw her arms around him and gave him the tightest embrace he'd ever experienced.

Miroku hadn't been born here originally. He wasn't really quite sure where he had lived until he was sixteen. Some city or other.

He was born motherless and with a heart defect that had almost killed him. His mother had died during childbirth and he lived in a single bedroom apartment with his father. When he was nine, his heart finally gave out. Alive only with the help of the many machines and tubes connected to him, he was meant to die. There was almost no chance of an implant arriving in time to save him.

In a last act of desperation, his father had committed suicide to save him. It worked, and Miroku was given his father's heart. But because of this, he was left without parents and was shipped off to an orphanage.

Isolated and alone because of his sickness, even though he had been pronounced "cured", he had runaway when he was twelve. However, roaming the streets of the city proved to be dangerous, for just a week after he left the orphanage, he was attacked and mugged of what little money he had on him. Left with only a picture of his mother and father and a sizeable stab wound on the palm of his right hand, he made due with the small amount of money he managed to acquire from searching the alleys for lost change. When that wasn't enough, he had to resort to pick-pocketing.

Unable to receive help from a hospital, the wound on his palm remained unhealed and was only wrapped with a piece of cloth he had found dangling on a laundry line. Finally, Miroku was forced to join a religious cult which clothed and fed him. His injury was treated, but by then, a hole had formed that refused to go away. He decided to keep the cloth wrapped around his hand in order to hide it.

It was from the cult that Miroku learned about sex. It was believed there, that by having sex with many others, they were expressing God's love. That there was nothing in the world at all wrong with sex as long as it was practiced in love, whatever it was, or whoever it was with, no matter who, or what age or what relative or what manner.

Of course, even then, Miroku knew that that was a bunch of bullshit, but he needed them to survive and so he followed their way of life. He ignored the pained screams that were heard as he passed by closed doors. He accepted whatever the members handed him, whether it was within a glass bottle or rolled up and set on fire. He even agreed to "sharing", in which children as young as 5 were offered up by other members as sexual partners to adult followers.

Miroku considered himself luckier than a lot of the girls, but he still lost his virginity when he was thirteen to a forty year old woman. Slowly, his sense of morality deteriorated. By the time he was fourteen he had bedded over a hundred women, not all of them within the cult that he had slowly accepted as his family.

Shortly after his fifteenth birthday, the group was disbanded when they were reported to the police. The majority of the members were charged on counts of rape, sexual abuse of minors, and distributing drugs and alcohol to children.

Shipped off to various foster families, Miroku kept on living the lifestyle that he had been taught. Each time the people that he lived with wised up to his actions, off he went to yet another family that was (as he considered them) stupid enough to let him into their life.

Finally, a month before his sixteenth birthday, an old monk took him in. For reasons that he couldn't explain, he felt a connection with him that he hadn't expected. The monk became his father and he became the son. He still liked to sleep around, but he practiced less frequently. Two months later he stopped completely. That was when Sango came.

Sure, he tried to keep having sex, but it just wasn't possible. It disinterested him to a point that the idea just bored him, really. He knew this wasn't normal, after all, he was a testosterone filled male. Finding sex boring wasn't right. At the age of 16, it was supposed to be what his life rotated around.

When he turned eighteen, he received a letter that he had inherited a few thousand dollars from his mother's will, something that he had never expected or even heard about. With the money, he was able to go to college, something he'd never really thought possible along with the checks he received from all the odd jobs he worked. By then, of course, he had begun dating Sango, which made him feel like he was walking through a mine field. One wrong step…

Miroku really didn't know what attracted him to Sango. Maybe it was the thrill of the chase, a challenge. Maybe there was just something in her eyes that had sparked his interest before she had hit him in that diner. Or maybe five hundred years ago, Sango had buried his dead body and now it was his turn to thank her for the favor. But whatever the reason, he found himself digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole. A hole which may soon become his grave.

Shivering, Miroku was forced to take refuge in a convenience store. Rummaging through his pockets, he wisely bought an umbrella before stepping back into the rain, which was mercifully starting to let up.

As he passed the diner where he had first met Sango, he stopped for a moment to reminisce. The memory was painful, both in a metaphorical and a literal sense. He had groped her, and in return, received a hard slap to the face. Maybe that was what drew her to him.

Luckily for him, passing the diner meant that Sango's apartment was only a few blocks away. Breaking into a run, he found himself climbing up the squeaky stairs leading to the door of the woman he hoped to win back.

Pounding on the door and panting heavily, Miroku didn't even bother to fold up his umbrella.

When the door finally did open, Miroku was surprised to be staring into the tear-stained face of Sango. After three weeks of no contact, he had expected that she wasn't exactly grieving over their fight. He was even more surprised when she slammed the door in his face.

Blinking rapidly and staring blankly at the door, it took a few moments for the realization of what just happened to sink in.

At the sight of him, Sango, who he loved with all his heart, had slammed the door in his face without an explanation or a reason.

And that hurt him. He'd walked eight miles to get to her place IN THE RAIN, only to be rejected without so much as a chance to speak.

But that just made him more determined. Practically breaking her door, he pounded with all his strength. When that didn't work, he slid down and sat on the ground, his back against the door. He didn't care how long it would take; he wasn't leaving from that place until Sango let him in.

Unbeknownst to him, Sango was in the same exact position as him on the other side of the door. Together, they stayed there, each not knowing if the other had gone or not.

Finally, after an hour or so, Sango thought it was safe to open the door.

Cautiously twisting the door knob and pulling it towards her, she was shocked to feel something fall against her legs. Looking down, she found Miroku, unconscious, clearly feverish and soaking wet, his open umbrella a few feet away.

Tears quickly filled her eyes as guilt slowly overwhelmed her. Roughly brushing away her tears, Sango hauled Miroku into her apartment, shutting the door after them.

Stripping him of his water-laden clothes, Sango couldn't help but blush when she got to his pants. Even after three years of dating, she'd never gotten so far as seeing him naked and vice versa.

Trying her best not to look, she promptly dressed her in some of her father's clothing that she hadn't had the heart to throw away. Wrapping him in a blanket and laying him in her bed (after throwing away all the used up tissue littering it), she quickly called the doctor. There was no point in taking any risks.

Luckily, the doctor told her that it was only a fever, although a bit high. Some Tylenol and lots of rest and fluids would get rid of it in a few days. However, if his temperature went any higher, it was probably wise to get him to a hospital.

After the doctor left, Sango sat next to Miroku on the bed. He still hadn't woken up, but it didn't look like he was getting any worse.

But very soon, a rather large problem came up.

As a student still in college, Sango was limited to either a crowded dorm room, or a small, rundown, but solitary apartment. She, like any privacy seeking human-being chose the apartment.

Too bad the apartment didn't turn on the heat until deep into February, and it was only the middle of November.

Realizing this too late Sango was given two options. Send Miroku to the hospital, or provide that warmth he needed…

By sleeping very, very close to him.

It was a good thing a fever wasn't contagious.

* * *

What did I tell you? SO SOAP OPERA-Y! ARGH IT BURNS! 

But I couldn't really find another reason why Miroku was having sex prior to 16 and I wasn't about to completely change all of my chapters (too lazy for that), so there you have it. I got most of my facts from an article I read in People magazine.

Also, I didn't know what city Miroku and Sango should be living in, or what continent for that matter (although Japan isn't really a continent...)

And, I don't know if a fever is an illness, or a symptom, but I couldn't come up with any other sickness that wasn't very contagious.

So, I hope this chapter wasn't too blechy. I'm not one for angst, especially angst in third-person. Oh well.

Anyways, before I forget, it's time to...

**THANK THE REVIEWERS-**

**Lily Thorne: **Hehehe, half-baked, one of my favorite adjectives. And I decided to re-do the second chapter because it wasn't making much sense that Sango would just say no to Miroku's proposal for no known reason, so I added a reason. Anyways, thanks for reviewing and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

**Death Boo: **Thanks for catching that. Because of your review, I had something to explain in this chapter, but let me tell you, it took a while to think of a fairly reasonable explanation. Hope that clears up your questions, although a religious cult based on sex is a bit iffy...

**lilykt7: **Thanks! I was a bit worried that Naraku was out of character, as well as Sango, so I'm glad you think they're realistic!

**Inuyashasgirl4eva333: **Thank you very much! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.

**HorridlyTruthful25: **You've got to be kidding! Me? Write good angst? I'm shocked, but good shocked (if that makes any sense). I'm really glad you think this is a good story and I hope this chapter didn't change your feelings for it.

**deathskeeper27: **Hehe, well, Naraku is a hot piece of ass, no matter how twisted or evil. He's a bishie in a baboon suit! And I needed SOMEONE evil, so I thought, why not?

**SanMirLover: **, if I get my way, Miroku will beat Naraku up and sweep Sango off her feet, but that's for my fingers to decide. They're the ones typing the chapters and they tend to have a mind of their own.

**Marissa: **Are you being sarcastic? Or at least joking? I've never been able to write a tear-jerker. I mean, gun to my head, I probably couldn't be able to. Hmmm... well, thank you very much. pats fingers Good fingers, you've done well.

**Chocobo Obsessed: **Wait... are you the Iris who reminds me to update The Hormonal Ups and Downs, or another one? But anyways, I completely agree. DIE NARAKU YOU EVIL BISHIE! MUHAHAHAHA!

**Dark Ashley20: **Thanks very much! I'm glad you liked it. I've never been one to be able to handle very angsty stories, so I'll trust your judgement! Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

**CybrIdolMink: **. Thanks! I'll try my best. I don't like it when stories start out great then start sucking, so I'll be sure not to let that happen, but who knows, after all, it's my finger's job, not mine.

Well, that's all of them. Do tell me if I should continue or just drop dead (although not using those exact words of course). Hoped you enjoyed this chapter!


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